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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24739801">Marks on my body</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangeNoise/pseuds/StrangeNoise'>StrangeNoise</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Ciri is just done, Complicated Relationships, Jaskier flirts a lot but he only wants Geralt, Jealousy, Lack of Communication, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Rough Sex, Smut, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, uncertain relationship status</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:08:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,747</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24739801</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangeNoise/pseuds/StrangeNoise</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaskier wants to be with Geralt and Geralt wants to be with Jaskier. The thing is, the witcher is far too stubborn to ever admit his feelings and out of pettiness Jaskier flirts with everyone in his general vicinity. More often than not, tensions rise and need to be dissolved in the bedroom...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>298</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Marks on my body</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orangebubble/gifts">Orangebubble</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Prompt fill for Orangebubble that took far too long! Orange asked for possessive Geralt if I remember correctly and for Ciri to act like Geralt and Jaskier's daughter so we have some teenage rebellion in there too.<br/>Hope everyone enjoys!<br/>Pls don't @ me I only know the netflix show</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jaskier thanked the gods when he saw the small inn appear in the distance. He, Geralt and Ciri had been walking all day and he was exhausted. They were on the way to some village that was still three or four days away to pay some old friend of Geralt’s a visit and the road there was far from pleasant. But Jaskier had long since learned not to complain about things like these and with Ciri around, there was at least someone to talk to. She was not as talkative as Jaskier himself but didn’t outright refuse to talk to him when she wasn’t in the mood to do so as Geralt did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, the sight of an inn was a welcome one. The thought of a hearty meal and some drinks in good company awaiting them made the rest of the way go by quickly and soon Jaskier stepped into a dark hallway behind Geralt and Ciri. They turned right and walked through a door through which they could already hear the sounds of people talking and being merry. Jaskier looked around, enjoying the rustic interior and thinking of the possibility of singing a song or two for the people crowding the tables as he walked towards the bar with the others. The innkeeper, a middle-aged man in threadbare clothes and a dirty apron looked up from filling a mug with beer and raised a brow at them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re looking for a room to spend the night”, Geralt said and the man looked first at him and then past him at Ciri and Jaskier. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure”, he said and named the price for a room. Jaskier couldn’t hear because people started laughing at a nearby table but Geralt didn’t look too pleased. There was nothing they could do, though. This was the only inn for miles and the sun was already setting outside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine”, the witcher muttered, “One room then.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re not the biggest”, the innkeeper noted, “Are you sure you want only one?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>„One room should suffice“, Geralt told the innkeeper. Jaskier was tempted to object but Ciri beat him to it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are right. We will need two rooms”, she said to the innkeeper in a voice that left no room for argument. The man looked between Geralt and her while the witcher looked at “his” child with a look of utter confusion. For a moment Jaskier was sure an intense staring contest was about to unfold. But then Ciri turned away from Geralt with determination in her eyes and flashed the man behind the bar her most charming smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And please make sure it’s as far away from his as possible”, she pointed at Geralt as she spoke, then immediately left their side to end the debate and go find a table for them. No one else would have dared to treat Geralt like this but Ciri knew she could get away with anything. Jaskier couldn’t deny that she was starting to really grow on him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So…two rooms then?”, the innkeeper asked, clearly somewhat worried about what Geralt’s reaction would be. As Jaskier expected, it was a very characteristic “hm” before the witcher ordered some drinks for them, then slammed some coins onto the counter and left to brood in the darkest corner of the table Ciri had chosen for them to sit at. Jaskier shrugged and gave the innkeeper a “what can you do”-type of look before grabbing their drinks and carrying them to their table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ciri and Geralt weren’t talking to one another and it turned out rather quickly that neither of them was in the mood to talk to Jaskier either. They nursed their drinks – Geralt a dark ale and Ciri a watered-down cider – while pointedly not looking at each other. It wasn’t the first time Jaskier found them in a state like that and he knew they would be thick as thieves again come morning but the hours, where they remained in their stubborn stalemate were still hard to deal with. So he wasn’t too upset when a young man from the table next to them approached him after about half an hour, asking about his lute and if he could sing some songs for them. The bard was out of his seat before the man could even finish his question and though Jaskier could practically feel Geralt glare daggers at his back he refused to sit at the table with him and Ciri and be miserable all evening just because they were.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An hour or so later, Jaskier found himself at a table at the other end of the room, laughing and drinking with the patrons there. It was a healthy mix of local men and women of various ages that asked mostly for popular folk songs that he could have sung perfectly by heart even if he had emptied an entire barrel of beer beforehand. Jaskier had made a point of not singing any songs about Geralt – </span>
  <em>
    <span>“He doesn’t like when I sing about him”</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he had stage-whispered to the patrons of the inn, which had resulted in an uproar of laughter and another glare from Geralt. It wasn’t like he meant it, anyway, Jaskier knew by now how far he could go before the witcher’s mood really turned sour and he had to make sure to either make amends or stay out of Geralt’s way until his mood had somewhat settled again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At the moment, the bard didn’t care too much about his partner, however. He was too busy exchanging all sorts of stories and folk tales with the people around him and even though no one had officially offered to pay for his drinks, he never found himself with an empty mug. Jaskier found that both the drink and the companionship were far nicer than at the table, where Ciri and Geralt were still fighting their unspoken battle. And if he let some of the women sit too close or touch his shoulder or arm or chest for a little too long, then who’s business was it, really? Unless Geralt stopped treating their recurring trysts as anything but things that just occasionally happened between friends, Jaskier wasn’t going to act like there were anything else either. It was a reaction born solely from pettiness that left an uncomfortable sensation in his belly and a sour taste in his mouth but he wasn’t going to make himself vulnerable if Geralt wasn’t going to either. For the time being, Jaskier would make sure he enjoyed the evening and if Geralt wanted to be miserable, he could do that if he pleased. Jaskier knew that before the night was done, they would end up in bed with each other and that eased some of the tightness clinging to his heart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier was just in the middle of an epic tale about a dragon, a warthog, and a broom closet when he felt the familiar weight of a hand on his shoulder. He turned, knowing already who it was but nevertheless delighted to see Geralt’s face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is it, Master Witcher?”, he asked as innocently as he could muster without outright bursting into laughter. Geralt’s grip on his shoulder tightened but Jaskier acted as if it didn’t bother him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think you’ve had enough”, Geralt said, voice tight. With his free hand, he pointed at the collection of empty mugs in front of him. There were only three, barely enough to get Jaskier even lightly drunk but he doubted that mattered now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I’m having so much fun”, he protested just for the fun of seeing Geralt’s eyes narrowing and his mouth becoming an even harder line than it had been before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We have a busy day tomorrow. I wouldn’t want you to be exhausted”, Geralt grit out, his grip on Jaskier’s shoulder tightening to a point where it became painful. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With an exaggerated sigh, Jaskier rose to his feet, looking at the villagers as apologetically as he possibly could. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am very sorry, my kind people”, he said, managing to actually sound heartbroken despite the excitement about what he knew was going to happen next bubbling in his stomach, “It was a joy and an honor to be your companion tonight but now I am needed elsewhere and I wouldn’t want to disappoint my dear friend Geralt here.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There were disappointed murmurs and some voices of protest all around the table as Jaskier got up from the bench and grabbed his lute. Geralt watched him, strung tight like a bowstring, and with his arms crossed in front of his chest. When he turned back towards their old table for a moment, Jaskier could see Ciri roll her eyes in the distance. He winked at her and then turned to walk out of the room and up the stairs to the guest rooms, humming a merry tune as he went. Geralt followed on Jaskier’s heels. The bard could feel the warmth of his body at his back and his heart beat a little faster.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once they reached their room, Geralt unlocked the door and stepped inside. Jaskier followed and closed the door behind them. With all the calm in the world, he leaned his lute against the wall, then walked over to the bed and began removing his doublet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What on earth are you doing?!”, Geralt wanted to know. He had retreated to the far corner of the room, arms crossed in front of him once more and brooding. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, come on”, Jaskier sighed, shedding his doublet and the shirt he wore underneath it before bending down to take off his shoes, “Like this isn’t how things always go when we’re visiting an inn.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not”, Geralt protested much to Jaskier’s amusement. That might have been true a few months ago when whatever they were doing had been new and unexplored and when they had been too awkward and uncertain to speak about it with each other. Back then, their couplings had been more spontaneous and usually left them breathless and confused. But now they had shared a bed in more than one sense of the word so often that it was ridiculous to deny it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Every time they visited an inn Jaskier would spend some time singing with the patrons and spend some time with them. And as sure as the sun rose in the morning, Geralt would become ridiculously jealous of some barmaid or some gentleman from three towns over, who dared touch Jaskier a little too often. The witcher would drag Jaskier away from whatever he was doing and into their room to stake his claim on him. And Jaskier would let him. There was no one else he wanted but Geralt. That didn’t mean he could stop himself from being a massive flirt, however. He never intended for things to go anywhere but merely for the people he flirted with to feel good. But apparently, Geralt didn’t understand that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By now, what they were doing was a well-practiced game between them and Jaskier couldn’t understand why Geralt still acted like it wasn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh? So Ciri wanted her own room to be as far away from ours because I snore so terribly?”, Jaskier asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Geralt looked as if he wanted to say something but kept quiet, his steely gaze resting on Jaskier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop lying to yourself already, Geralt”, the bard teased as he shed the last of his clothing and laid bare on the sheets of the bed. They weren’t the best he had ever slept on but he’d had much more uncomfortable linens before and the ones here were comfortable enough. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier wrapped a hand around his stiffening length and let his eyes fall shut with a sigh. He gave himself a few firm strokes, then opened his eyes again to look at Geralt. The witcher still stood in the corner, seemingly unmoving. But then something hit the pillow next to Jaskier. The brunet turned and a smile spread on his face as he recognized the vial with scented oil they used for just such occasions. At the same time, Geralt stepped away from the corner and was over by the bed in a few long strides. He tore his shirt off over his head and glared at Jaskier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why do you always have to be like that?”, he growled, tearing at the lacings on his pants.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know what you mean, Geralt”, Jaskier said, picking up the bottle and toying with it, “I was merely being nice to some people. We had some drinks together and had fun.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You keep letting them touch you”, Geralt complained, struggling to get out of his shoes and pants and dropping onto the bed by Jaskier’s legs, “You know how much I hate that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The witcher outstretched his hand and Jaskier thought, not for the first time, of holding onto the vial in his hand until they’d had a serious talk about Geralt’s jealousy. But once more, he postponed the conversation. The look in Geralt’s eyes only served to stir his arousal and before he had consciously made the decision, he had already headed the witcher the item. Geralt coated his fingers liberally in oil while Jaskier spread his legs and lifted his hips a little to make access to his hole easier for the other man. Soon, one of Geralt’s fingers was pressing into him to the first knuckle. The witcher wasn’t the most gentle of men when it came to preparation but Jaskier didn’t mind the slight burn that came with the feeling of being stretched so suddenly. He sighed and let Geralt continue to do what he did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You keep complaining about others touching me but have I been with anyone but you these past months?”, Jaskier wanted to know, his voice breaking on a moan as Geralt added a second finger and began to slowly pump the digits in and out of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No”, Geralt admitted begrudgingly. For a moment it seemed like he wanted to say something else but then he closed his mouth and kept doing what he was doing. Jaskier felt like they should really have this talk he’d been meaning to have sometime soon but right now there was no point to it. He was going to be well beyond coherency in a matter of minutes, so why start talking now? That resolve, of course, only included serious talk. Jaskier still rambled on like he always did, praising Geralt for moving his fingers the way he did and spurring him on. By the time the witcher withdrew his fingers, Jaskier was breathless and way beyond ready.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Turn around”, Geralt ordered as he moved around to position himself on the bed properly. Jaskier pouted at the command. He wanted to see his partner’s face when they had sex because he loved how intense Geralt’s eyes would get. But he doubted that complaints would get him anywhere and feeling Geralt’s broad, warm chest against his back at all times held its own set of perks that Jaskier enjoyed greatly. So he got on his hands and knees and waited for his partner’s next move.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier gasped when one of Geralt’s broad hands grabbed his hip tightly and the head of the other man’s length was pressed up against his entrance. Geralt was bigger than any man Jaskier had ever taken before and every time they had sex, it took some getting used to again. The bard took some deep, calming breaths and waited. When Geralt began slowly pushing into him, moans started tumbling from his mouth. Jaskier’s grip on the sheets underneath him tightened to a point where he was worried he was going to tear them apart but he couldn’t care less. Geralt was fully sheathed inside him quicker than anticipated and the feeling of being filled to the limit was so all-consuming that Jaskier’s thoughts fell apart the moment he had them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He held his breath when Geralt pulled back and released it in a loud moan when the witcher thrust back into him. Immediately, Geralt set a harsh pace, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh growing louder and louder in the room along with Jaskier’s moans. In moments like these, Geralt rarely bothered with a slow rhythm at first. This wasn’t meant for them to feel close or act lovingly. Sex like this was harsh and possessive, a way for the witcher to show Jaskier, who he belonged to in a way he couldn’t accomplish with words. And the bard went with it willingly. For a fleeting moment, he thought about Ciri when the headboard hit the wall with a loud bang and he figured that if he was her, he’d want a room at the other end of the hallway too. But then Geralt thrust into him deep and hard again and his mind went blank once more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier allowed himself to sink fully into the sensation. Geralt was a force of nature and the only thing he could really do in moments like these was let himself get carried away with it. Every point of contact felt like a mark trying to burn itself into Jaskier’s flesh and while he might sometimes complain about Geralt treating him too roughly and leaving bruises all over his body, the bard secretly adored the look and the feeling of them. Because while he would often get somewhat annoyed with Geralt for being so jealous, Jaskier loved the feeling of belonging to the witcher the marks on his skin gave him. They gave him something that made their relationship feel real when Geralt refused to give him that with words or sweeter gestures.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was a darker train of thought, though, and Jaskier was secretly relieved when it was being interrupted by Geralt pulling him back against his chest and burying his teeth in Jaskier’s left shoulder. The bard cried out with pleasure, his hands trying to find purchase somewhere as Geralt bounced him in his lap as if he weighed nothing. All things considered, that was probably true for the witcher but being manhandled like this still sent a shock of arousal through Jaskier’s body every time it happened. Eventually, Geralt wrapped one arm around Jaskier to keep him in place and the bard clung to it like a lifeline while his partner continued pounding into him while simultaneously leaving bruises all over his shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soon, Jaskier was dizzy with it all – the heat of Geralt’s skin against his back and thighs, the slick, sweaty slide of their bodies against each other, and the sharp sensation of teeth digging into his skin. It was an intoxicating mix and Jaskier felt like he was being much louder today than he had ever been before. And that was saying something, considering he was already a very vocal partner in any case. But something about the way Geralt clung to him, like a desperate attempt to hold him close and never let him go made Jaskier shiver in his arms. The witcher may be stubborn and jealous and refuse to speak more than a dozen words at a time but he more than made up for that in the bedroom. Others might have written sonnets or sworn their love to Jaskier until they were blue in the face but none of them had ever made the bard feel the way he did in Geralt’s arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As if he could somehow read his thoughts – and to be fair, Jaskier wasn’t completely sure Geralt couldn’t – the witcher pressed his lips to the back of Jaskier’s neck again. This time, however, instead of digging his teeth in, it was in the gentlest kiss he had ever given the other. It was a caress, meant to be understood as one and not an attempt to leave a mark. And apparently, that was all Jaskier needed to reach his release untouched. It took him by surprise even when it probably really shouldn’t. But Jaskier couldn’t think about that now. His mind went blissfully blank as his climax washed over him. He was probably going to leave marks on Geralt’s forearm, clinging to him as hard as he was but that only made his heart beat faster in his chest. The thought of both of them leaving marks on the other’s body was almost more than Jaskier could take and Geralt was still pounding into him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, suddenly, the witcher growled behind him and thrust into him one last time before Jaskier could feel him spilling inside him. The feeling of it and the way Geralt bit down on his shoulder once again to silence himself made the fire in the pit of Jaskier’s stomach flare up one last time before it went out and he melted back against Geralt in a mess of exhausted limbs. The other man held Jaskier upright, his chest heaving and his hands slowly sliding over the bard’s body, now more as a caress than a gesture of possession.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a few blissful moments, Geralt lifted Jaskier off his lap and placed him back on the bed. Jaskier immediately scooted over to the side of the bed he hadn’t soiled and got comfortable while Geralt stood up and filled a bowl in the corner of the room with water. He returned to the bed a moment later to clean Jaskier’s stomach but there really wasn’t much to do. The sheets had gotten the worst of it. Jaskier thought that maybe they should pay the innkeeper a little extra when they left tomorrow but feared that he would forget about that by the time it came up the next day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time Geralt returned to the bed, Jaskier had already slipped underneath the blanket and curled in on himself. The witcher usually slept as far on the other side of the bed as he could. At first, Jaskier had felt hurt by that but by now he had come to the conclusion that Geralt just wasn’t comfortable with cuddling and he just had to accept that. So when he felt Geralt scoot the slightest bit closer and take one of Jaskier’s hands in his, that came as quite a surprise. The bard would have said something if he wasn’t already well on his way to the realm of dreams. And so the last thing he consciously noted before fully drifting off was Geralt gently squeezing his hand. Jaskier fell asleep with a smile on his face.</span>
</p>
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